


Salted Honeycomb (Summer's End)

by NymeriaKing (DisappearingGirl)



Series: prompt fills [10]
Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - High School, Cuddling & Snuggling, Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, Face-Sitting, Fisting, Knotting Dildos, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Omega Armitage Hux, Omega Ben Solo, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Pregnancy Kink, Unexpected Heat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-30
Updated: 2019-09-30
Packaged: 2020-11-08 07:16:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,671
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20831510
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DisappearingGirl/pseuds/NymeriaKing
Summary: "We arenotskipping school just so you canparticipate in school."Humming, Armie slings his arm around Ben's waist and tugs him close. They line up their steps to match cadence. "You know I have an awful habit of studying. What do you propose I study instead of physics?"Ben sinks into him, biting a lip as a flush takes over his cheeks. "Biology."





	Salted Honeycomb (Summer's End)

**Author's Note:**

> This fic deals with an unexpected heat and potentially (depending on whose laws you have in mind, but certainly not mine) underage sex, so if those aren't your thing, then simply don't read this fic. If you scroll past this warning and then bitch about it, I will publically shame you.
> 
> Written with [this prompt](https://twitter.com/kylux_prompts/status/1163793512636276736?s=20) from [Kylux Prompts twitter](https://twitter.com/kylux_prompts) in mind.
> 
> Here is the [moodboard](https://twitter.com/nymeriaking/status/1178681672964984833?s=20) I made.
> 
> Here is the [playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/2IlUwaPnenFUhCl7G5Ldn4?si=h7gdeyx1Tny_3zM-xMLPGQ) I made.

School's only been back in session for a month, leaving the warm, late-September Monday ripe for ditching without much repercussion.

They skip school the same way they always do. Ben gets up, showers, grabs his school stuff, and heads out the door to begin his walk to school. His walk takes him past Armie's house, where the boy is waiting for him with his own bookbag in hand. They walk down to the end of the street together before turning onto the trail that leads them back through the greenbelt behind the houses.

"It's too early in the morning for it to be this hot out," Armie mumbles, shoving his bag into Ben's arms. He pulls his tie loose and unbuttons the top of his school shirt, exposing his pale neck to the breeze.

Ben hands his bag back over, heart jumping at the bit of skin. "You can change when we get to my house — if you want to wear anything at all."

Armie scoffs. "We'll see. I'd like to at least get some of that physics homework done."

"We are _not_ skipping school just so you can _participate in school_."

Humming, Armie slings his arm around Ben's waist and tugs him close. They line up their steps to match cadence. "You know I have an awful habit of studying. What do you propose I study instead of physics?"

Ben sinks into him, biting a lip as a flush takes over his cheeks. "Biology."

—

Armie spends over an hour on his homework. Ben should have made him leave the bookbag in the trees, but alas, he did not. Instead, he indulges.

Reclining at the foot of the bed, Ben lets his eyes wander over his boyfriend's pretzeled form. They'd both changed when they got to Ben's room, and Armie couldn't quite fill out any of Ben's shirts, so the one he wears hangs loosely from his shoulders and covers the little shorts he'd also borrowed, leaving an expanse of skin exposed.

The summer left Armie more freckled than anything, no matter how much sunscreen he applied. They peek out in little patches from underneath the soft cotton, teasing about what remains hidden.

Veins pulsing, Ben scents the air.

Armie's chosen position at the head of the bed leaves his legs butterflied open, one knee on the bed and the other pulled up to his chest. With the heat from their walk adding to the warmth of his body, and the scant clothing proving itself to be no hindrance, his heady scent can just be picked up from Ben's place.

It stirs something in him — a lot of things, truthfully — and Ben feels no shame in shifting a little closer and taking in more of Armie's scent. It's sweet, as it always is, but especially so at this time in their cycle, when both of them are just two weeks shy of a heat.

While that subject has generally been a sore spot for Armie — never allowed suppressants, always told to _"deal with it"_ — Ben has probed for and proven every upside as he can. There are plenty, to be sure, but the best by far is their synchronization, especially at this tender time when both their pheromones and senses are heightened, and every sweet thing is that much sweeter.

To his parents, Ben's unmedicated cycle is a kind show of solidarity. To Armie, it's the best reason to skip school or sleep over. To Ben, it's a call to run his fingers up his own thigh and sigh softly.

Armie's scent is hot and sweet and nearly inhuman. He smells like the best stall at a farmer's market in the height of summer, where the samples are tiny but potent enough to make you sweat. He's like salted honeycomb to Ben, and just the thought of tasting him now makes his mouth water. He can feel the blood in his body surging.

With a shaky breath, Ben slips his hand down into his shorts and wraps his first two fingers around the base of his cock, squeezing it gently to coax it up. It's nice enough on its own, but he lets the third finger drift a little further and ghost over the center of the folds below. He runs it down and up lightly, from the very edge of his entrance up to his clit, and shivers at the tease. Holding back an unearned moan, and he tosses his head back and closes his eyes.

"Ben?"

Ben hums.

"Are you really doing that right now?"

He huffs and shifts his hand down further, dipping his ring finger in to probe at his entrance and whining when he feels how wet he is.

"Of course, you are," Armie sighs dismissively. The sound of scratching on paper signals his return to his homework, but when Ben scents the air again, he smells stronger.

He bites lip and shifts his hips, trying to get his finger in deep enough while maintaining the grip on his cock. Realistically, he knows he can't properly do this with one hand. With the other, he thumbs the waistband of his shorts and pushes them down to make room, bouncing his hips on the bed.

The sound of a textbook snapping shut opens his eyes, and he turns to see Armie rising up on his knees and scrambling down the bed.

"Stop that," Armie commands, voice already husky. He grabs Ben by the wrist and pulls his hand out of his shorts. "Let me do that for you."

Pulling both his hands away, Ben lets Armie take over. This bossy and handsy side of him, the dominant side that only rarely shows in bed, drives Ben crazy. Armie frequently tells him that this is because he's trying to get bred — and honestly, part of him is — but Ben digresses; he's crazy for Armie all the time.

Armie quickly divests him of his shorts and drops them to the floor below, exposing him to the cool air of the bedroom. Firmly gripping his knees, he pushes them wide apart and settles between them, still fully clothed. He's flushed as usual, glowing pink from his ears to his chest, but the t-shirt is too long and baggy for Ben to see how hard and wet his boyfriend is.

Ben whines at the imbalance, and he can feel himself getting slicker under his green gaze. His lip trembles in anticipation. "What are you gonna do to me?"

With a smirk, Armie rucks Ben's shirt up, exposing his chest, and thumbs at a nipple playfully. "I'm gonna make you come."

Ben squirms underneath him, but Armie quickly clamps his hands onto his hips and presses him down into the bed to still him, bowing his head and latching onto Ben's nipple with his mouth. His tongue darts out teasingly, swiping only sparingly while he sucks rhythmically.

Hissing a curse, Ben fists both his hands in Armie's hair and pulls, earning himself a smack on the hip. "Fuck, thank you," he breathes, getting another hard smack in response when he doesn't let go. He opts to loosen his grip and pull Armie in closer, letting out a moan when his tongue laves over the hardened nub, wetting it further before he sucks even harder. His clit throbs, and he can feel a drop of slick roll down his skin. "Armie, please."

Armie looks up at him, lips pink and wet, and turns to his other nipple, breathing over it but not touching it. "Please, what?" Idly, his thumbs rub circles on Ben's hips, and he can't do more than sigh in response. Without instruction, Armie runs his tongue over the nipple to wet it.

"Please make me come," Ben whispers.

Armie pulls off long enough to say only one word. "How?"

Swallowing back a groan, Ben plants a hand on his shoulder and pushes him down to where his cock stands up from his stomach. "With your mouth," he hisses. At the responding glare, he adds, "please."

Armie nods once, then gets right to business, mouthing at his cock sloppily and all but slobbering on it.

"Jesus fucking Christ."

Armie chuckles and takes it in hand, freeing his mouth for a much more important task. He dips his head down to his cunt and pecks one soft kiss to his clit where it peeks out, then another and another. Tightening his grip and giving a slow tug, he opens his mouth and adds in his tongue.

Ben eyelids flutter at the brief probe of his entrance, but he can't bear to look away from Armie's heated gaze, not even when he sucks on his clit and swipes his tongue back and forth over it. The grip on his cock never loosens, either, and he can't help but whine pitifully.

"Too much there, baby?" Armie whispers against him, lips gliding through his slick as he speaks. "Want me to move up or down?"

Ben takes a deep breath, considers his options. It's still early in their play, maybe too early for the deeper stuff. He can probably let that need build up and settle for having his cock sucked for now. "Up," he decides, resting a hand on the back of Armie's neck and coaxing him forward.

Still with his eyes on Ben's, Armie fits his mouth neatly over the head and lowers himself onto it, taking in as much as his mouth can fit before pulling off and smiling. "So big for such a healthy omega." He pinches his side teasingly where he's been filling out more lately and takes him back in his mouth, pushing himself further to swallow him down.

Toes curling at the suggestion, Ben thumbs the nape of his neck hums. "Always on that train. What would you do if I knotted you, huh? With a mouth like that?"

Armie pulls off again briefly. "Choke," he answers, and Ben's already hot face blazes. Bearing back down, Armie grabs the hand on his neck and pulls it harder into him, holding himself down.

The invitation is clear enough, and Ben gives his neck a gentle squeeze before adding some weight, forcing him to take more of his cock into his throat and swallow several times.

His lips are dark from use and arousal, a fine contrast with his pale pink cheeks, and if there's mouth that needs a knot, it's this one. Ben lets go of him and allows a few breaths before pulling him down again, much harder, and groaning at the audible squelch and gulp.

"Fuck yeah, you're gonna choke on my dick if I knot those lips," he pants. Armie's eyes close, and Ben bucks his hips up a few times, fucking his loose throat. He lets him up again to draw in a wet breath, then pulls him back down, fucking his mouth again. 

Armie groans, and he lets him up. Licking his lips, he catches his breath and directs himself back to Ben's cock. "Don't let me up again until you knot me and finish coming down my throat."

Ben doesn't need to be told twice. With both hands, he grabs a hold of Armie's head to keep him still and bucks up into his mouth quickly, again and again, imagining those lips stretching out over a knot, those cheeks filling up, the way he'd be stuck, choking, attached to Ben's cock.

He can't lose himself in the always short, never quite satisfying buildup, but he bites his lip and thinks hard enough about the feel of Armie's tongue that he's able to come quickly enough, shooting down his throat. Clenching around nothing doesn't alleviate the tense coil in his belly, but it's a decent release, and he lets go of Armie when he's done.

Armie pulls off with a wet smack, looking up at him with watery eyes. His pupils are blown wide, and his eyes are halfway closed, leaving only a sliver of that familiar green to contrast with his red skin. Mouth still open and lightly drooling, he crawls up Ben's body and straddles his stomach to draw close enough for a kiss.

Ben cards his fingers through the mussed up hair, pulling him in to whisper against the corner of his mouth. "You're such an omega," he teases.

"Shut up," Armie snarls, taking Ben's mouth viciously, biting hard and licking deep. Despite all his hard work, he tastes more like himself than he does like Ben. The cotton shorts he has on are obscenely wet where they rest against Ben's bare skin.

Ben wraps his arms around his boyfriend, holding him tight, and breaks the kiss with a chuckle. "You're drunk on it, Armie. The power dynamic fucks your little pussy right up, doesn't it?"

Armie scowls, growling, and Ben digs a hand down into the shorts and hooks two fingers down to feel the heavy wash of slick over his hot and swollen cunt. He drops his head to Ben's shoulder and gasps in a deep breath as Ben gently circles his fingers wide in the soft hair around his hole.

Finally getting a deeper whiff of his fertile scent, Ben smirks. "But you don't need a real alpha, do you?" he whispers, using the hand in his shorts to pull him further up his body. "Because you have me. No one else can fuck you like I fuck you." 

Armie moans and buries his face in Ben's neck, nodding as he ruts against him, wetting his skin with slick. With his unoccupied hand, Ben cups his face and pulls it into his own, taking a sweet kiss.

Every part of Armie is soft — his slow lips as they slide against Ben's, his tentative tongue when he opens his mouth, his sweaty skin that clings Ben's where they touch, the slick cleavage between his legs and the short hair that covers it.

Ben runs his fingers lightly over the hair to either side before centering them to stroke at his clit, moaning. "Fuck," he hisses into the kiss, "you always get so wet."

Armie moans in return and arches his back into it.

"You think I can knock you into heat early?" he asks, and he can practically feel Armie's face heat up against his. He presses his fingers flat against his hole, relishing the honey-sweet slick that seeps between them. "Let me taste you."

Armie sighs and makes to climb off of him, but Ben catches him by the hips.

"No, honey." He tugs him closer and closer until he's seated high on Ben's chest. "All the way up here. Take those shorts off."

Armie bites a lip, turning it white and rose. He makes quick work of ridding himself of the wet shorts, then takes his shirt off, too, leaving himself totally bare. A flush covers his skin, spanning all the way down to meld with the strawberry blond hairs below his navel. 

Ben sighs longingly at the sight and runs his hands along his sides, sliding them low to hold his wide hips and coax him closer. Licking his lips, he takes a deep breath and drinks in his scent. "Come here."

Obediently, Armie leans forward and crawls up until his hips are over Ben's face. Bracing one hand in Ben's hair and one on the wall in front of him, he lowers himself down gently.

From here, his scent is intoxicating, but he's still not close enough, still hovering. Ben wraps his arms around his hips and pulls him further down, reaching up into it to prod at the soft heat. The slick is everywhere, messy and starting to drip like honey, and Ben licks it up greedily, nosing his way between each fold to suck at the excess.

As he works his way up around the clit, sucking noisily, Armie's grip on his hair tightens. He focuses his effort there for a few seconds, alternating between flicking his tongue over it and sucking on it, but soon moves on to other areas that need to be cleaned up. His hair is wet, too, as is the underside of his little cock, and he laves his tongue over all of it, swallowing as much of the slick as he can. He smiles, mouth watering, and digs his nose into the soft hair to scent it.

"Ben," Armie whines, shifting his hips. "Focus, please."

Ben chuckles. "It holds your scent so well. I can't help that it's the second best part." He lowers his ministrations.

"Second be— _ah_!"

Another rush of salty slick rolls down his tongue as he pushes it into Armie's hole. He pumps it out and back in, curling it up to stroke the inner wall as hard as he can while the tip of his nose rubs against Armie's clit. Withdrawing his tongue, he sucks hard at his entrance and is rewarded with a loud keen and even more sweet slick.

"Fuck, what the fuck," Armie mutters above him, hole clenching, and Ben replaces his tongue, fucking him slowly.

When Armie's legs start to tremble, and his weight presses harder against Ben's face, he takes his arms from around him and withdraws his tongue, licking a stripe up to the clit and closing his lips over it. He palms Armie's ass with both hands and squeezes the soft cheeks a few times before sliding them down to the swollen juncture of his legs. Digging his thumbs up into his slick hole, he hooks them toward each side and presses against the soft inner walls, mimicking the swell of an alpha's knot.

"Be-_en_," Armie whines, the warning rising in pitch on the broken syllable. His breathing deepens drastically, and a drop of slick rolls down one hand.

Hungrily, Ben shoves his tongue back up into Armie's hole, pulling his thumbs wider to accommodate for it. He licks hard and fast, stretching in as deep as he can.

"Ben, Ben, Ben," Armie chants softly, "please, please, please." He whimpers and mewls, tightening around Ben's intrusions, then suddenly goes quiet. A short wave of syrupy slick seeps over Ben's tongue and thumbs, dripping down onto his chin.

Armie quickly grows too heavy, and Ben pulls out too soon, maneuvering his pliant body back over to the pillows at the head of the bed. He hisses at the loss, reaching a hand down between his legs to relieve it.

"Sorry, one sec," Ben murmurs apologetically, getting up from the bed and heading over to his dresser. From the bottom drawer, under the fold of a towel, he pulls out a glass filler. He only has a few toys, and this one with a small knot and pink star at the base is the only one meant to be left in like Armie needs, so it'll have to do. He takes it back to the bed, tossing his shirt off quickly and climbing up to lie close in front of Armie.

Armie's face is pinched, and his hand idly strokes over the wet hair between his legs. He sighs when he sees what Ben has in his hands, pulling one knee up and hooking his leg over Ben's waist to give him access. Ben scoots in as close as he can, and Armie takes his hand and guides it down to his entrance. As the tip breaches him, Armie curses, burying his face in the pillows.

"Again?" Ben asks, watching him shiver with each short measure, and he nods quickly, wrapping his arms around Ben's shoulders. Smiling and nuzzling his bright hair, Ben presses the toy in further, sending another shiver down his spine. He gets more resistance when they get to the knot, but he pushes in steadily, and Armie silently convulses once more as the knot breaches and presses out against his walls. Ben dips his head lower and noses at his neck, scenting him. "Your scent is so strong lately; this room will never stop smelling like you."

Now knotted, Armie relaxes, his body going soft against Ben's. He moans airily when Ben pushes on the filler, making sure it's fully seated before sliding a thigh between his to keep it firmly in. Entwined and full, he sighs sleepily. "I still have homework to do."

Ben snorts, wrapping his arms around him and holding him as close as possible. "Fuck your homework," he mumbles, chuckling into his neck.

"Mm, no," Armie sighs. "Fuck you. Do my homework. Although the words are sometimes interchangeable, there is a vast difference."

Rolling his eyes, Ben tightens his grip and buries himself in the warm body. "We did not skip school for that. You owe me at least two more fucks."

Armie brings a hand up to his hair, combing it through gently. "All right, baby. But first, sleep. We got up too early for skipping school."

Ben can live with that. He takes a deep breath, basking in the warm scent of happy omega, and falls into a light doze in no time.

—

Movement wakes him. A hand, low on his belly and just above the hips, kneads at him. A mouth and nose and forehead and tickling hair rub over his neck and shoulder.

At some point, they must have rolled over. He's now on his back, and Armie is draped over him, one leg slung over his, covering his thigh in slick. His hand stills when he notices Ben is awake.

"Don't stop," Ben whispers, laying a hand over his and pressing it back into his skin.

Armie hums, and his hand resumes its circular motion over his belly.

He sighs, eyes still closed, and lets the massage send sparks through him. "That feels so good."

"Of course it does," Armie huffs playfully, licking a stripe up from his shoulder to his jaw. He lets his lips brush over his ear when he whispers. "A fertile thing like you is begging to get knocked up. It's only natural for your anatomy to accommodate such a strong desire."

A blush burns over his face and chest, pounds in his ears. "Anatomy?" 

"Can't you feel it? Your uterus straightens up, makes room, makes it easy for that cum to find its way through you."

He bites a lip to halt a moan, but there's nothing he can do to keep his baser self from responding. As Armie keeps talking and kneading his belly, his arousal grows.

"Everyone knows how important a good education is to you," he teases, hand firm, "but fuck it all if someone puts pups in you, right?"

He whines, turning his face into Armie's neck. He can imagine the swell of a bump, the weight of something more in him. He can't lie about how easily he's seduced by the idea of being fucked _right_, like his body wants.

Armie's hand keeps stroking the area smoothly, comfortingly. "You know you're only meant for one thing, baby. Breeding. I bet you'd beg to stay full for the rest of your life, wouldn't you?"

"You're sick," Ben huffs.

"You're the one who wants it," Armie fires back, abandoning his belly to grab his jaw and pull him into a kiss.

Ben whines into it, missing the touch. "I told you not to stop."

Armie complies, dipping his hand down again to caress his belly, stroking his thumb over it and kneading the heel of his hand into him. Breaking the kiss to scent his throat, he curses. "Fuck, you really do want it bad."

"I do," Ben confesses. He's embarrassingly wet, and his lower back is starting to ache with need. "I do, I do, I do."

"Well, fuck, you'd look good. If I could give you that, I would. But—" He stops abruptly, and Ben has to look down to see what he's doing.

It's the glass filler Ben had knotted him with. He pulls it out slowly, passing the knot back through and unleashing an obscene amount of slick to drip onto Ben's leg. Still wet, sticky and dripping, Armie transfers the toy over to Ben, resting the tip against his hole.

"I can give you this instead," he whispers, looking back into his eyes.

Mouth open, Ben can't say a word. He nods slowly and lets Armie slide the glass piece into him. It's still hot from being inside Armie for so long, and their combined slick makes the glide too easy, but he moans at the slight stretch.

Armie smiles sweetly, watching his face as he rocks the toy in and out, fucking him gently. "How's that feel?"

Ben shifts his hips into it, humming. "Good," he murmurs, "but…" He drifts a hand down, covering his belly again. The combined sensation makes his back arch automatically, and he groans.

Armie gasps, and his rhythm falters, but he quickly picks it back up, sitting up fully and carding his free hand through Ben's hair. "Presenting now, are we? And you said you were gonna fuck _me_ into heat."

Ben leans into the touch, breathing shakily. Inside, deep inside, he can feel the cramp he gets in the days immediately before his heat. He rubs his hand more firmly against it, and his back tightens more. Gritting his teeth, he groans again. "It hurts."

"Oh, baby," Armie murmurs, rocking the toy in a little further, putting some pressure on his hole. "Do you need me to knot you?"

Ben whines. "I just need _more_."

Nodding, Armie shuffles down to sit between his spread legs. "All right, then. Let's try this." He rests his free hand beside Ben's on his belly, rubbing it with him. Slowly, he pushes the toy further in.

Ben bites his lip as the knot starts stretching him open, but then it's in, and that's that.

"Ben?" Armie asks, pressing the knot in a little deeper. Still nothing.

"I need more," he moans.

Frowning, Armie pulls the knot out before pushing it back in.

"More," Ben insists, back arching and stomach clenching. The knot feels a little big in him, but nothing spectacular, just sliding in and out too easily.

"This is a lot, baby." Carefully, he pulls the filler all the way out and sets it aside. With a sigh, he sinks two fingers in and flexes them upwards, rubbing them against a usually sensitive area, but now…

"That is _not enough_," he moans, and Armie huffs.

"Well, what if I…" He trails off and removes his fingers, cutting off the beginning of Ben's cry with a more relieving stretch. "That's four, and I think it's like the knot on that filler toy, but—"

"Yes, do it," Ben interrupts. The stretch doesn't feel like a stretch anymore, and when Armie moves his fingers, it sounds even wetter.

"Are you sure, baby? I don't know if—"

"Try." He doesn't mean to sound bossy or desperate, but he needs to be filled. He covers Armie's hand with his own, pressing down on his belly, and closes his eyes. "I need you inside of me right now. I need to feel you."

So Armie digs all five fingers in, and the stretch reappears once they get past the second knuckle. He hesitates, rubbing his thumb against his belly, then pushes a little further in. "Still good?"

Ben nods, eyes still firmly shut. There's a familiar aching warmth deep inside, and he takes a breath to quell it.

"Normally, I'd worry about you not being slick enough for something like this, but…" Armie works his hand in further, and Ben moans; it doesn't feel dry at all. "You smell like you're on the edge of it, Ben."

He sighs, nodding once more. "Maybe you shouldn't have teased about knocking me up."

Without warning, the fingers slide out, dragging against the thin skin around his hole. He winces at it, hissing, then yelps when they rock back in, pushing hard but not slipping past his rim. Ben groans and opens his eyes. Armie licks his lips, smirking, and gives another push.

Ben has to close his eyes as his entrance gives way to the last row of knuckles. The stretch does hurt a little now, but the pain quickly vanishes as more and _more_ of Armie's hand moves _inside_ of him. Suddenly remembering he has a second hand, he frantically darts it down to his stretched open hole, feeling for where Armie's soft hand is sinking deep into his hot, slick pussy. "Fuck," he moans, voice high. "Fuck, oh my— _fuck_."

It doesn't stop. The hand keeps pushing in, pressing deeper and harder against his inner walls, sending sparks of white blasting through his vision. He can feel Armie stirring inside him, deeper than he ever thought possible, rocking and twisting, then digging even further in. Tears burn behind his eyes, and then Armie whispers, smoothing his over his belly.

"Baby, look at you. Look at how it's stretching you."

Ben opens his eyes and looks down at where their hands rest together. Armie stuffs his hand deeper, pushing up, and Ben can feel it underneath his hand, see a little bump rise up. Tears rush down his face, and he tosses his head back and whines.

"You're taking it so well. You wanted something real inside you," Armie murmurs, pressing a kiss to the slight swell of his belly. "Here it is." He fucks him deeper, faster, again and again.

He can barely breathe through it, barely move. He feels so full, so thoroughly taken by Armie, that when the lightness washes over him, everything else vanishes.

—

Ben wakes to warmth, to balmy breath on his shoulder, to hot arms and legs tossed over him. There's a hand rubbing circles into the lowest part of his belly, and an ache between his legs.

It's a little too hot; he's sweaty and sticky and stinky, and he shifts underneath Armie's weight.

"Good afternoon." Armie's voice is scratchy and warm with sleep.

Ben rolls in his arms to face him and brushes his hair out of his face. It's damp with sweat. "Afternoon?" he asks, and is shocked to hear the hoarseness of his voice.

Armie smiles softly, pressing their foreheads together. "After one, but you slept soundly this whole time after I fucked you right." He digs his fingers into the small of Ben's back, massaging the tense muscles.

Relaxing into it, he studies the green eyes in front of him. "How many days?"

"Until next heat?"

He nods.

"Thirteen for me, if I'm on schedule. But for you, I mean…"

He sighs in acceptance. "Yeah, I feel like I've been hit by train."

Armie snickers, pulling him closer. "Or like you've had a train run through you?"

"Oh, shut the fuck up," he snips, but a laugh escapes his chest anyway. He nuzzles Armie's nose, stealing a little kiss, and closes his eyes. "You really fisted me, huh?" He can feel Armie smirk against him.

"I fisted you, and you cried," he says simply.

Ben feels his body stir again, and he begins to disentangle himself one limb at a time. Sitting up and feeling a pinch down below, he groans. "Do you think maybe I'm not so far gone that a cold shower can't help stave this thing off? I don't wanna miss yours."

But once he's free, he's trapped again — this time, by a single arm around his waist and a soft pair of lips over his mouth. "Don't worry about it," Armie mumbles, kissing him with each word. He pulls back, looking his blushing, nude form up and down. "I don't think there's any stopping yours at this point, but a hot shower won't hurt. A warm washcloth only does so much."

"You," he starts, then stops. Following his gaze to the floor, he sees a discarded towel. "I don't remember that."

"Yeah, I kind of blew your mind." Smirking, he nudges Ben toward the edge of the bed, getting up with him.

Now standing, Ben can really feel the aftereffects. He leans back into Armie, letting him take some of his weight.

Armie holds him up, arms strong around his chest. "A bit much, baby?"

He sighs and nods. "I love it when you call me 'baby.'"

"I know, baby."

The pet name sends warmth blossoming in his chest and rushing through his stomach, and tingling… He straightens up, ignoring the ache and hurrying over to the bathroom. "Shower time. Right now."

He turns on the faucet and steps under the cold spray, long ahead of Armie. It does little to calm the heat under his skin, but it couldn't work better to wake him up. "Shit shit shit," he mutters, letting the cold water continue to run down his back.

Armie stands and watches from the other side of the glass. "That's not going to make a difference."

He shivers and huffs. "No, but fucking you won't make a difference either, so why should I do that, huh?" The water starts to warm, and he turns around, letting it run over all his skin.

"The difference is that one is significantly more pleasurable," Armie says, walking in as the glass begins to fog up. Pressing up against him, he wraps his arms around his waist. "But seriously — wouldn't your pool be better than an icy shower?"

Ben groans. "Blame heat brain, please. You know I'm not normally this dumb. I will definitely need the pool after this."

Armie chuckles and grabs the body wash off the shelf. "Of course, baby."

—

The cool water feels like heaven on Ben's skin. The stone is rough against his arms as he clings to the side, but the taste of strawberries and wild honey on Armie's tongue is worth it. 

He moans as his tongue dips between his lips to slide against his, sweet enough to make his skin crawl. He tilts his head to the side to deepen the kiss, nose brushing against cheek, and hooks a hand on the back of his neck. The strawberry begins to fade, but the musky, floral, _omega_ taste takes over, and Ben moans again before pulling back.

"You're red all over, baby."

"Yeah." Ben's voice is still stressed from the heat. He rests his cheek on the cool brick and watches Armie watch him.

He looks so pretty in the sunlight, especially with the sunscreen sheen and berry-tinted lips. His eyes are like fresh green moss, hair is a red-golden halo, and his skin is fairer than the white stone upon which he rests. His body is lean, but still soft to the touch, soft to hold, soft to be held by. He plucks another strawberry from the porcelain bowl he brought out from the kitchen, placing the end between his plump lips and taking a bite.

"You are the most beautiful omega I have ever laid my eyes upon," Ben sighs.

Armie blushes furiously but doesn't look away. After swallowing, he offers the other half of the strawberry to Ben, resting it against his open mouth. "After you," he refutes.

Ben accepts the fruit, biting off the red flesh. He chews it slowly, letting the taste burst on his tongue. He's grown even more sensitive than he was this morning, and every little thing is hitting him harder than usual. The taste of fruit, the bright light of the sun, the swimming trunks sliding over his skin, the heady scent of Armie — well within reach.

He pulls himself out of the pool with ease, and Armie shuffles back, sitting on his heels and shouting about water and something cold. Ben doesn't care about those things. He grabs Armie by the face and pulls him into a deep kiss.

Armie cuts it short. "Do you want to dry off, first?"

"No," Ben snorts, diving back in.

Armie tastes like strawberry again, bright and loud. His skin is smooth and hot where it touches him, and when Ben tugs him closer, his moan is like music to his ears.

Ben feels himself quickly spiralling upwards once more, blood surging. "I want you," he murmurs, digging his fingers into Armie's hair and pushing it back to scent the spot behind his ear. Every part of him is sweet and bold, and his mouth waters. "I want you so bad."

"You have me," Armie whispers. He runs a hand down from his neck to his chest, kneading briefly before trailing lower. He's only able to tease at the waistband before Ben turns him around and pins him to the ground. Hips still in the air, he wiggles them and laughs. "Excited?"

"Fuck, yes," he whines, shoving Armie's shorts down with one hand. Scenting the air, he groans. "Can I fuck you? Like an alpha would?"

Armie is quiet for a moment. When he responds, it's in a whisper. "We're out where your neighbors could see, baby." But the way he bucks his hips back toward Ben is _yes_ enough.

Ben immediately fights to get his wet swimming trunks down below his hard dick, then wraps his hand around it, guiding the head between Armie's wet lips. As soon as he feels the slick hole, he pushes in, hips eagerly bucking up against Armie's.

Arching his back into it, Armie moans. "Goodness, Ben, you brute. You weren't kidding when you said 'like an alpha.'"

Ben drapes himself over the littler omega, pressing his forehead into the crook of his shoulder as he rocks his hips into his wet heat again and again, barely pulling out at all between thrusts. "I wanna make you mine," he mumbles. Reaching a hand underneath him, he takes a hold of Armie's little cock and strokes it.

Each thrust pulls light, airy moans out of Armie's throat, and he's trembling under Ben in no time. "I _am_ yours," he moans, turning his head to the side and baring his throat. Ben nuzzles it, licks it, sucks and bites it, and Armie tightens around him, coming in his hand.

His potent scent floods Ben's senses, and then he's clenching around nothing, but surely filling Armie up with cum. When he finishes, he pulls out and lifts himself off of Armie. Armie groans and sits back on his heels, turning around to face him. He reaches a hand between his legs and catches some of what drips out, lifting it up to Ben's mouth. Ben accepts it, the mixture of them, licking Armie's fingers clean of the sweet slick and cum.

Rolling his eyes, Armie wipes his hand off on Ben's swimming trunks, then tugs his own back on and lies back on the stone ground. "Thanks for tearing up my knees, by the way. It's too hot not to wear shorts."

And yeah, when Ben check his knees, they're a little scraped up. He lies down next to Armie, wrapping an arm over his chest. "Oh, well. There are worse body parts I can tear up."

—

Later that afternoon, after Armie has thoroughly blown Ben's mind once more, they lie down in bed together and wrap themselves up in one another.

"You can tell your mom your heat came early, and that I walked you home from school."

Ben hums. He can barely think, barely move. Armie is warm around him, and that's all he needs.

"But I can't spend every hour of this heat with you, baby."

He hums again.

"Baby, look at me."

Ben peels his eyes open, turning them up to look at Armie. He's smiling, red and white and sweet and beautiful. "I love you."

"I love you, too," Armie giggles, leaning in to kiss his forehead.

"You're so beautiful," he sighs. "I don't know how you haven't been stolen from me by some alpha."

He leans in further, pressing his nose into Ben's cheek. "Because I don't want some alpha. I want you and your sweet, little omega cunt."

Ben groans, scents him. He smells like the whole field of flowers now, like the spring breeze and the summer sun and the fall harvest all injected into smooth honey. "Fuckin' same. You and your sweet, little omega cunt."

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading, and thank you in advance for any comments! I've never done anything a/b/o before, so please be nice.
> 
> If you want, you can follow me on [twitter](https://mobile.twitter.com/nymeriaking).


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